


Always listen to Ralph

by everafter_in_neverland, Insane1001



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Blood, Emotional Dean, Freaked Out Dean, Gen, Halloween Inspired, Horror, Violence, Violent Deaths
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-15 07:04:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21249377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everafter_in_neverland/pseuds/everafter_in_neverland, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Insane1001/pseuds/Insane1001
Summary: Sometimes it's better to go for a good old fashioned hotel in the city vacation. There's usually less death by psychopath.





	Always listen to Ralph

**Author's Note:**

> @everafter-on-neverland on tumblr really helped me with this, especially since the idea came from me giffing dean being dragged by his ankles and the idea was written and ready to post in less than a week. Somehow got this ready in time for Halloween!

Dean’s feet skidded across the floor as he threw himself into the first room he came across and shut the door behind him with a quiet thud, clicking the lock into place. Spinning around, he looked over the room frantically before squeezing himself into the corner beside the dresser. Dean slowly slid down the wall as the room spun around him and he dropped his head against his knees, allowing his eyes to close for a moment.

“Fuck, this was not how this trip was meant to go,” he breathed to himself. “That’s the last time I ignore a creepy villager with a death warning.”

Breathing deeply, Dean took a moment to quell the panic thundering through his veins before slowly lifting his head. He could feel his entire body protesting as he straightened up and dropped his head back against the wall, groaning at the stab of pain it sent shooting through his skull. Gazing up at the ceiling, he could still feel blood dripping down his head where he’d taken a hit earlier in the night and lifted a hand to staunch the flow, only to freeze as he caught sight of the dried blood already staining his hand.

He couldn’t remember whose it was anymore. Couldn’t even be sure it was only one person’s. He’d watched so many of his friends die tonight, every single one of them a graphic depiction of brutality he didn’t think he’d ever be able to forget. The only respite was that it hadn’t been all of them. There was still a handful of his friends that he hadn’t seen since everything had gone to hell in a handbasket, and while he couldn’t be sure that they were alive, he also couldn’t say that they were dead, and it was a thought he’d hold onto until his dying breath. Especially concerning one person in particular.

“Where the fuck are you, Roman?” He asked the empty room, digging his nails into his palms.

He’d been separated from his best friend earlier in the night and he’d been unable to find him in the following chaos. As he stared at the door, he hoped that Roman had gotten out and was far away from this place. That he was safe.

Dean flinched as a scream shattered the silence that had descended upon the house. Racing footsteps thundered down the hallway just outside the door and Dean scrambled onto his hands and knees as he threw himself under the bed, cursing his long limbs.

Holding his breath, Dean sent up a silent prayer to anyone that was listening that that would be the end of it. Only seconds later did the door start to rattle though, accompanied by an all too familiar voice frantically yelling from the other side. Dean squeezed his eyes shut and tried to block it out, knowing he couldn’t help his friend. He felt every cry like a shot to the chest and pressed his forehead against the floor until he was sure he’d never lose the imprint, carrying it around as a reminder of another friend he couldn’t help.

It took him a moment to realize the world had gone still again, only the rush of his blood echoing in his ears, and he hesitantly looked towards the door. Something thumped against it and Dean froze, watching as blood started to pool under the door.

Someone stepped away from the door and Dean’s breath stuttered to a halt as he listened intently as they made their way further down the hall. Once Dean couldn’t hear them anymore, he started to pull himself out from under the bed.

Dean stepped closer to the door, pausing to look down at the puddle of blood before moving to open it. Something pressed against the door from the other side and he stumbled back, narrowly missing being hit by the body that tumbled into the room. Forcing his eyes away from the familiar figure, Dean bent down to feel for a pulse, choking back a sob when he couldn’t find one. His hands shook as he backed away and headed for the staircase.

There was another collapsed figure at the bottom of the stairs. The only recognizable feature was the fire like hair, the rest of her body too mutilated to make sense of, and Dean gagged as he had to step over her. He couldn’t look back.

There was a creak of floorboards above Dean’s head that had him picking up his pace as his breathing became panicked. Turning into the kitchen, he collided with another person, and he was sure the only reason he hadn’t screamed was that all the breath had been knocked out of him. There was a moment of frantic scrabbling before Dean pulled back enough to get a clear look at who he had run into, only to come face to face with Seth. The man’s face was pale beneath the streaks of blood coating it and the breathy, “Dean,” had him choking back a sob.

“We have to get out of here,” Dean said, his voice a hushed whisper. His face fell into a look of confusion when Seth simply continued to stare at him. Dean gave him a shake. “Seth, are you listening to me?” Dean demanded, his voice rising as his grip on Seth tightened.

Seth still didn’t reply and another creak sounded throughout the house, only this time it sounded like it was coming from the next room and Dean looked around wildly. A choked whimpering sound had him turning back to Seth and he watched in horror as blood started to bubble and drip from Seth’s mouth.

“Run,” Seth choked out and Dean let go, stumbling back and watching as Seth fell to the ground in a heap.

Despite Seth’s warning, Dean found himself frozen where he stood. His eyes were caught on the weapon protruding from his friends back, the way the blade glinted in the low light as blood continued to seep out of the wound despite the fact that the man was already dead.

One of his best friends. 

Seth.

Dean could still see the gap toothed smile that had shone from Seth’s face when they’d first met in fourth grade and he never could have imagined then that this was how it would all end. He didn’t know how he was supposed to let go of this friend and he could feel the tears he’d been fighting back all night well up in his eyes. He could barely breathe around the pounding of his heart in his throat.

Something moving in the darkness across the room had Dean slamming back into his body and he whirled around, scrambling for the front door as tears rolled down his cheeks, knowing he was leaving behind a piece of himself that he’d never get back.

Only one thing was left racing through his mind now. Roman.

He barely kept himself from slamming into the door as he slid to a stop and he cursed beneath his breath as he fumbled with the lock, begging his shaky hands to work. When he finally got it unlocked, Dean yanked the door open only to yelp as something collided with his ankles and his feet were taken out from under him. Pain radiated through his body as he landed hard, driving the breath from his lungs, and before he could scramble back to his feet, two hands clamped down around his ankles.

There was a moment of complete silence.

Dean gazed out into the night, taking in the way the trees danced in the breeze and seemed to taunt him with a freedom that lay just beyond his reach. Something in the corner of his eye caught his attention and Dean’s gaze shifted over only to feel like he’d been punched in the chest when it locked on Roman’s face.

Relief flooded through his veins at the sight of his best friend’s figure standing on the porch and he reached out a hand for him.

“Ro,” Dean whimpered, but as the grip around his ankles tightened and Roman didn’t make a move, he could feel confusion fill him. “Roman!” He tried again as his body was yanked back a foot. When Roman still didn’t react, Dean felt panic crash through him and he yanked his feet back against the grip. His body twisted as he clawed at the floor, desperately trying to gain leverage to shake off the killer. One of his feet made impact with enough force to send pain shooting up his leg but still the grip didn’t weaken and one of his arms flailed out in the mounting panic, hitting the door.

Light spilled out onto the porch as the door swung further open and Dean’s wild gaze once again found Roman’s. Only the eyes staring back at him weren’t the warm brown Dean had come to expect from his best friend. They were vacant, glazed over with something Dean didn’t dare put a word to again this night.

Something shattered in Dean as his gaze dropped to the stake driven through Roman’s chest, pinning the man against one of the railing posts. All the fight drained from his body as a sob fell from Dean’s lips and he went limp, uncaring of the hands still holding him. The whole night was suddenly crashing down on him as though he’d been half living in a dream until this moment with the hope of still finding Roman alive. He was near heaving from the force with which his sobs tore themselves from his body and he squeezed his eyes so tight he saw bursts of light beneath his lids so as to not gaze upon the horror of his best friend’s last moments.

From the moment Roman had walked into Dean’s life he’d become a part so intrinsic to who Dean was that it felt like half his soul had just been torn from his chest, leaving behind a gaping wound that could never heal. Roman had been a guiding light when everything had seemed hopeless, a soulmate when Dean didn’t know how to believe in anyone.

And he was gone.

A scream tore itself from Dean’s throat as the grief swallowed him whole, crashing over him in waves of agony like he’d never felt before. He barely noticed the lurch of his body as he was dragged back another foot, only allowing a quiet whimper to slip between his cries. His gaze lifted to catch one last look at the man he knew like the back of his hand.

And then he was pulled into the dark.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm also on tumblr @lunatic-desert-child


End file.
